


A Blank Page

by Jackie_Boi (DontMindMeImJustAMeme)



Series: Man's Ego [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alter Egos, Alter ego AU, Alternate Universe, Blood, Blood and Gore, Gen, I haven't posted anything for this series in months, Magic, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Pentagrams, Rituals, Side Story, guys i haven't forgotten about it i swear, it's still happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 02:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontMindMeImJustAMeme/pseuds/Jackie_Boi
Summary: If you're given the chance to change everything, a blank page,wₗuld yoₗ?





	A Blank Page

**Author's Note:**

> t/w: there's some death (its minor), blood and someone's heart please be cautious my lovelies!!!

A book.

It all started with that _damn_ book.

A man walks along a gravel road, the rain soaking his blonde hair. His shoes are matted in mud and dead grass, his soaked black, jacket weighing him down more than it normally would. That book should have never been created, he knows this. He should have destroyed it while he had the chance, but for some dumb reason, he didn’t. Instead, he foolishly kept it in hopes that he would find answers. He had so many questions and more only aroused when those Youtubers went missing. Guilt pangs in his chest as he realises that it was his fault those four, Mark Fischbach, Sean "Jack" McLoughlin, Nathan Sharp and Matthew "Matpat" Patrick, went missing. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Not only did he not destroy the book, but he lost it as well. Whos hands it ended up in? He has no clue, though he knows they were stupid enough to summon tulpa’s into the world.

He continues, winding his way through trees and bush, the road ending long ago. The rain hammers down on him, sending chills through his entire body. He’s lived in the UK, so he should be used to it, but he guesses since he’s in America things might be different. Or maybe that’s an excuse. Either way, he’s freezing and quickens his pace as he now jogs across the forest. _Why did he decide to meet me here?_ He thinks bitterly. He gets secrecy and all, not wanting anyone else to get their grimy little hands all over that book, but did they have to do it out in the middle of nowhere, in America, on a day that it was raining? _This better be worth it_.

His mind is distracted, but whether that's a good or bad thing, it's unclear to him. He can't stop thinking about those Youtubers. They should have never been involved, no matter how much potential they held. No one should have to be involved, but those four especially. It doesn't matter how much promise they held, it doesn't matter how much they already knew, it doesn't matter if they were even willing. They are not being caught up into this war, not on his watch. This is not something that they can handle. They'll get hurt. Hell, they've already gotten hurt.

And it was all because of him. Him, and his own damned selfishness.

Maybe if he hadn't had such a big ego, then maybe none of this wouldn't have happened. If he hadn't hosted so much faith in himself and himself alone, then perhaps the book would have never gotten lost. That book contains too much knowledge scribbled onto its pages, knowledge that can corrupt even the most generous souls. He wants nothing more than to sock those brainless saps who used the book in the face. They deserved it, after all. They put those Youtubers and so many more people in danger. The four tulpa's that were created could have racked up a body count larger than the Black Death if they had gotten what they wanted. Luckily, the Youtubers that were captured retaliated and even defeated the tulpa's themselves. He can't even imagine how they managed to pull a stunt like that off, but all he knows is that it worked based purely off dumb luck.

And that it will likely never happen again if they were to be freed a second time.

But that won't happen. It can't happen.

He won't let it happen.

The man reaches a clearing in the middle of the forest, lightning striking in the sky, illuminating the masked figure standing before him. His facial features are completely obscured behind his circular, white mask, his soaked brown hair clinging to its surface as he takes his hands out of his worn, blue jumper.

He smiles under the mask. "I was starting to think you wouldn't show."

"Well, I did have half the mind to not bother myself with you anymore, " the other blonde man says, mischief dancing in his piercing blue eyes. "But, y' know. I guess I have to save the world since it's the right thing to do and all."

"Glad to see you haven't changed."

The blonde smirks. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Harsh winds begin to pick up, brushing up all the dead leaves and twigs on the forest floor. The trees begin to sway, scaring the remaining animals that dared to stay within the storm away. Another bolt of lightning crashed over the two men's heads, showing them in another blanked of blue light. They should probably make this exchange quick then. It won't be long before the storm is in full motion.

"So, " the blonde man begins, wiping the rain out of his eyes. "What did you want to talk about. We didn't come all the way out here for nothing, right?"

"No, I invited you over for a picnic, " the masked man remarks, his voice laced with sarcasm.

The blonde's face scrunches up. "No offence, but this is a really shitty picnic."

The masked man laughs. The grin behind his mask dies down though, as he proceeds onto the matter at hand. "It's about the book."

The blonde's expression darkens. Sue him, he's a bit of a pessimist when it comes to these sorts of things. He can only assume that from the tone of his companion's voice, it isn't anything good. Of course, it isn't. Nothing ever goes right for him.

The masked man continues. "I believe it's still out there, but the problem is that I found out it has a new owner."

The blonde man's breath hitches in his throat, his eyes as wide as saucers. He holds tension in his shoulders as the wind thrashes the leaves around violently as if mother nature herself knew that something was amiss.

There was only one last question left to ask.

The blonde man swallows the anxiety that climbs his throat down.

"Who has it?"

A body drops to the floor, there face permanently twisted into an expression of horror, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Whatever is left of him, the rats can have. After all, Blank only needs his blood and heart.

His mechanical hands are covered in a thin layer of blood as he carries his cans of blood with a bag slung over his shoulders. He enters a cave, not at all frightened by the darkness that seems to be keeping dark secrets hidden from anyone's vision. A gentle breeze ruffles his blue hair as he makes his way downwards, deep into the cave where no one would be able to find him or any other victims he decides to drag down here. He reaches a narrow passage, turning sideways as he shuffles between the large split in the stone wall that leads to a small section of the cavern. It's tiny, enclosed and practically soundproof. No one will ever know that he's there.

He digs into his bag and pulls out a thick, ominous-looking book that has golden engravings that reads ' _Libro Quod Superius Sicut Inferius_ ' on the leather front cover. He undoes the little latch that keeps the book shut, flicking through its delicate pages until he lands on a certain chapter called ' _Mars_ '. Its contents are in Latin, but it doesn't stop him from understanding the diagram that's been sketched onto the page in ink. It is, after all, the sigil that gives him life.

He opens the cans of blood, dipping his fingers into the crimson liquid and begins painting the exact sigil on the floor. The outer most circle takes up the majority of the room, a five-pointed star drawn in the interior. He then paints cryptic looking symbols in the circle of the pentagram, leaving the inside of the star untouched for the time being. He moves to the pentagrams exterior, writing words in Latin around the circle with a single finger. He then proceeds to take candles and places them around the bloody lines, lighting them each as he does so. Once he finishes, he takes a wooden box out of his bag, taking out and unwrapping the heart that he ripped out of that sorry man's chest. He places it in the middle, whispering someone's name under his breath before taking a step back, his soulless glass eyes casting a soft blue light over his work.

He then opens his arms, as if he were embracing the evil prowls with him everywhere he goes.

"Orₜuₛ."

His voice is choppy, cutting in and out, but it does the trick. The candle flames shoot up, trying to reach the cave ceiling as the heart that lies in the middle begins breaking down. The muscle tears itself apart, before extending and materialising into a completely different being. As it forms, it flexes its skinless fingers, smiling at Blank somehow with no lips.

It chuckles darkly. "YӨЦ ᄃΛᄂᄂΣD?"

**Author's Note:**

> lmao excuse my crappy summaries i really need to get better at those,,, and no ur not dreaming i have actually updated this series can you believe???
> 
> Im sorry but I don't have an official release date for my next instalment because I still haven't finished working on its outline and other stuff im so sorry for making you wait ;-; I will try to hurry up tho lmao i wiLL GEt tHIS DOnE 
> 
> Also, im experimenting with fonts because i want all of them to have their own unique text, not just Anti. Here's my ideas and tell me if you like them or not:  
> 🅳🅰🆁🅺  
> 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓮  
> [̲̅M][̲̅a][̲̅d]  
> And of course, Blank and new person is in this chapter (Anti will stay the same tho i mean him and zalgo are a match made in heaven)


End file.
